Outside my office building in the South Shore, the company lowered the American flag to half staff. It honors the memory Sargent Michael Chesna, a Weymouth, MA police officer, who died in the line of duty. Many of us, in the face of violence or disaster, will run for cover. Extraordinary men and women, like Sargent Chesna, with the duty of protecting us, will charge forward. Sadly, some do not return.

We remember their courage, we pray for, and support their loved ones that are left behind. And we also must remember the victims. In this incident, we pray for Vera Adams, shot in her sun room.

There has been a school of thought that when raising our children, we need to be strict, uncompromising about standards of behavior. This “tough love” school was particularly popular some years ago. And among many parents, it still is.

I want to talk about another type of “tough” love. The type of love that Jesus calls us to have for one another. I have been deeply troubled by what has been going on both politically and socially in our nation. Racism is raising it’s ugly head. Splits between poor and rich; blue collar and white collar; liberal and conservative, are becoming more fractious and angry.

This is not completely a new thing, one needs only read about the life and incidents that occurred leading up to the Civil War. In 1854, abolitionist Senator Charles Sumner was beaten by a Southern Congressman, on the floor of the Senate Chamber itself. Fast forward, we have a Democratic Congresswoman calling for the harassment of any supporter of President Trump. And his supporters are doing the same to anyone who opposes his policies. And the social media of both sides are egging their followers on. And the country appears to be fracturing.

Jesus taught that there are two prime commandments from which all other commandments come from: You shall love your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind. And the second commandment: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. This is the “tough” love I am speaking about. A love we experience when we open our hearts, our inner selves to God. A love that asks us to change, but also to accept who we are at that moment. And if we can accept ourselves because God does; so must we accept other persons, because God loves them too. They are due at the least respect; even if they do not offer it in return. We can never dehumanize another, turning them into an object of our anger.

Now that does not mean we just standby and remain silent. We are still called to the prophetic role of speaking truth to power. We speak out against those who spread bigotry and hatred of others. But we do not use their own tactics. Look tothe work of Martin Luther King Jr., and Dorothy Day, their movements used protests, and civil disobedience; but using non-violence, in word and action, to win people to their side.

So we are challenged by the Spirit, to be faithful to the commandment to love our neighbors; even when they are being asses. Gospel love is “tough” love.

This sign appeared recently on the platform of the commuter rail station I go to. I do not know if it’s appearance had been planned for a time, or is in response to the spate of celebrity suicides that have hit the news recently.

These suicides should be a wake up call that there are many persons out there, family and friends, neighbors and coworkers, and fellow citizens; who are deep pain. They are suffering from depression, hopelessness, and despair. They believe they are alone, and they feel they cannot bear the burden any more; and they see death as the only source of relief.

It is up to all of us to give support, and care to our suffering brothers and sisters. To let them know that they are not alone.

Some of us may have the gift of providing counseling. Some may be able to be the one who listens. A welcoming handshake, a hug, or a hand on the shoulder; could make all difference.

God will make visible those opportunities to help. The Holy Spirit will give us those gifts we will need. And Jesus will be walking with us. At that very least, we can pray for those who tempted to commit suicide; for the souls of those who have; and the families they have left behind. May the love of God dispel the darkness, and bring hope to those who need it.

My mother, Margaret “Marna” Burke Jones, was born on July 30, 1927. She passed away on June 8, 2013. She gave birth to six children, of which I was the first. She, with my father, Bill, raised us all with love and care; always there for us.

She is buried with my father, in a simple, beautiful cemetery in Peabody, MA.

One of my brothers left flowers at the gravesite for Mom, and took this picture!

In her memory; and for all mothers, living or deceased, I offer this prayer I came across on the Web:

A MOTHER’S DAY PRAYER

I said a Mother’s Day Prayer for you, to thank the Lord above for blessing me with a lifetime of your tender-hearted love. I thank God for the caring you have shown me through the years, for the closeness we have enjoyed, in time of laughter and of tears.

And so, I thank you from the heart, for all you have done for me, and I bless the Lord for giving me the best mother there could ever be!

Twilight on the campus of Bridgewater State University, MA. Another day draws to a close; another academic year draws to a close. This week, the 2018 commencements will be held. For many students, the twilight of their academic life, and soon, the dawn of a brand new life; with joys and disappointments, uncertainties and hopes.

To the BSU Class of 2018:

May the Good Lord be with you!

May God the Father watch over you and protect you!

May God the Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ, walk with you on your journeys. May he give you strength and hope!

On this date, during the running of the 2013 Boston Marathon, two brothers set off two bombs near the finish line. Three persons were killed, and a estimated 264 injured, about sixteen required amputations. The youngest fatal casualty was 8 year Martin Richard. The pictured statue of him was erected on the campus of Bridgewater State University, MA, by his parents who both graduated from BSU.

Five years has passed, but the experience of that day, and the days that followed still stir feelings. I was working at my office, when alerts came in over the internet, and news flashes over the radio. We could not believe that something like that could happen in Boston. Later on, I walked down towards Copley Square, to the barricades set up around Boylston St., near the Finish Line. Flowers, balloons, notes, and running shoes adorned the fences. The area beyond the barricade, which on a normal day would be bustling with pedestrians and cars was deserted. I felt a great of sadness (still do) over the loss of life; for the surviving wounded.

A memorial service was held in the Catholic Cathedral of the Holy Cross. In one of the largest churches in Boston, built by labor and resources of mostly Irish Catholic immigrants, peoples of all races, faiths, and beliefs, came together. Together, they prayed for, and remembered the deceased and the survivors. They came together to unite as a city, a commonwealth, and a nation.

Now five years later, other tragedies continue to afflict this country, and other countries and peoples as well. Like Boston, most communities struggle to continue on, So the Marathon goes on, the runners will be gathering at Hopkinton, under heavy storm clouds to be sure, but they will run.

On a spiritual note, the Marathon reminds me of what St. Paul wrote in his Second Letter to Timothy:

“But you, be self-possessed in all circumstances; put up with hardship; perform the work of an evangelist; fulfill your ministry. For I am already poured like a libation; and the time of my departure is at hand. I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.” (2 Tim 4: 5-7)

In moments of hard times, difficult times, tragic times, we need to turn to Jesus Christ. He said he would be with us always. In Christ, we will find guidance, strength, and hope. With him beside us, within us, we will be able continue the race, and win “the crown of righteousness” that awaits us who keep the faith.

Post navigation

Pages

Archives

Archives

St. Anthony's Walnut Tree by Bonafacio De Pitata (Photo by Jack Wintz, OFM)

All Are Welcome!

All are welcome here. I hope you will find my random thoughts, reflections, and bits of news interesting. I write from a Franciscan and deacon's viewpoint about our Church, our country and our world.
Any feedback, comments and criticisms are welcomed, but please, no slander, profanity, name-calling, racism or sexism. I reserve the right to delete any violations. Franciscan charity and compassion will be our guide.